Can't say I like it muchly. And they had the darned cheek to trumpet the fact that their had "eight sections!!" on Saturday.
One of the things I Iiked about the Saturday Guardian was that it wasn't a great bloated thing, like the ludicrous Telegraph (now there's a weird paper - the Saturday mag full of fatuous aspirational crap aimed at 20-somethings in Notting Hill in the front half, and ads for incontinence pads, stairlifts and eternally-expanding gussets in the back half). Now they've gone down that road, and filled most of the sections with aspirational crap aimed at... Dear Lord, deliver us from the curse of "lifestyle journalism" - to paraphrase Frank Zappa, it's people with no taste of their own interviewing people with bad taste for people who'll buy any taste, as long as it makes them look slightly more lah-di-dah than their ghastly neighbours.
But what are the alternatives on a Saturday? Other than not buying a newspaper at all, of course - but then there'd be no opportunity to rant at Julie Birchill.